Robert Black

February, New York 1938
This is not my city I thought to myself. It couldn't be. In the past few weeks New York City had changed dramatically. Tensions between different ideologies reached a boiling point in January as in several cities clashes broke out. But the United States government, since 1919 had been very ineffective to stop different ideologies from becoming mainstream, and in the 1936 elections, the new governors of New England were syndicates. Governors of the North West were nationalists and the southern governors were staunch pro-confederates. "What could go wrong?" I picture the American president saying. Well, everything. I was a journalist, lived in the City my whole life. I've gone to Constantinople, Berlin, Moscow, Tokyo and many, many other places. I began to make a name for myself in the business. I was, and still am a syndicalist. But even I have my limits, and I knew the fighting was too much. At first, I supported the protests by the socialists, but they grew violent, in part caused by the leftists, and others caused by the American military unable to stop the protesting. Soon, it escalated. Although the protests began in Manhattan Square, it grew, as leftists took up arms and began rioting across the city. It was a ripple effect. Syndies from across America looked after NYC and began to riot. On the 20th of January Syndicates somehow were able to bomb the governor's headquarters in Seattle causing extensive damage and 2 people dead. This caused a fury across the nation, which ultimately resulted in pro-nationalists terrorizing several states. Right now, it was a month after all of that, and nothing had gotten better. Usually, I would wake up around 7-8 but now I couldn't sleep past 6, there was so much noise. After getting up, I realized I needed to find supplies and groceries as, no matter how I cut down my food intake I was running low. When I looked outside, it was the same scene. Smoke in the air, and even some high-rise buildings began to catch fire. People were shouting, screaming. I heard the national guard throughout the day but I never knew what they were doing. By the looks of it, nothing. I got dressed in my usual day clothes, but I was hesitant, even before I left my apartment. It was expensive, but had a beautiful view. I had to reassure myself for 5 minutes to even get out the door. The way everything was, I didn't know how to act. Once I left the apartment, then the building it was like stepping into another world. It was no longer a bustling city but one with anarchy. I could smell the fires across the city. I began walking to a small grocery store I knew nearby. I hoped to God it was still around. As I walked down the street, it was empty weirdly enough. I was almost there when I heard men marching, chanting "Workers unite! Workers unite for the revolution!" I immediately ran towards the store and got there before I saw any Syndicates. Thankfully, I saw there were a minimal amount of supplies and food left. I didn't see anyone working but it didn't matter. I got the things I needed, but hid until the Syndicates left. I made a run for the door, and ran back to the apartment building. No one was in there either, and it was understandable. Everyone was afraid of the damage that might come. I made it back to my room, and when I entered it, I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that I can survive for another few weeks. But if everything gets worse, will I get anymore supplies? I thought. I couldn't think about that now, there was too much going on anyway. I turned and walked to my radio, waiting to see if it was still on, and to my surprise, it was. But it was very glitchy and I knew the signal wasn't going to last. When I turned it on, a man named Christopher Myeres came on. I knew him before, a world renouned journalist. But then, I made out what he said perfectly: '''Ladies and Gentlemen of America, reports have come out of New England, stating that New York state has officially ceded from the Union, declaring the Peoples' Union of America. In the last hour, several other states have joined the newly formed PUA, that now reaches from New England to Michigan.' The Second American Civil War,'' I thought. Something caught my eye right then. I looked out my window, and there it was: the Syndicalist banner hoisted across the Empire State Building. Now, I thought, this is going to get a whole lot worse.